


A Possible Beginning

by girl_next_door_writes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 03:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16884963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girl_next_door_writes/pseuds/girl_next_door_writes
Summary: Crowley is withholding information, that’s nothing new, but perhaps there is more he is keeping to himself.  Which information would you prefer?  The information that helps solve the case or the real reason why he’s been avoiding you?





	A Possible Beginning

He was tired. It was written all over his face and for once he wasn’t even attempting to hide the truth. You’d never noticed the lines on his face before, not that he looked anywhere near his age. Taking the half empty bottle of whiskey from the table next to you, you crossed to where he was sat. The chains rattled as he shifted, eyes never leaving you, studying each movement carefully. There was no fear there, or even mild amusement, which seemed to be his default expression when dealing with you. Slowly pouring the amber liquid into two glasses, the only sound in the room the change in tone the whiskey made as it splashed against the ice. Looking at his hands, bound at the wrists, you smirked as you placed a straw in one of the glasses before taking the drinks and sitting in the empty chair opposite. There was silence as he watched you lift a glass to your lips, taking a long, slow sip and as your lips parted slightly he raised an eyebrow. “They decided to break out the big guns have they?” His usual silky-smooth voice a little rougher around the edges from lack of use, or perhaps too much if the screams that echoed down the halls earlier were any indication. Shaking your head, in such a small movement many people would have missed it, you offered him the glass with the straw. He looked at it with such disdain, dragging his eyes from the offending receptacle up to you. Shrugging, you placed it on the floor and took another sip from your own glass. 

Watching him watch you over the rim of your glass you wondered what it must do to you, to live that long, to see that much pain and chaos and destruction. Sometimes, for very brief moments, you thought you caught almost a soulful look deep in those earthly brown eyes of his and it was almost as if his story was right there written on his face. “The plaid brothers can do their worst. I don’t have a bloody clue where it is.” His usual air of irritation hummed through his words and you simply nodded. You both knew you weren’t there to hurt him and you both knew and you both knew he did, in fact, know exactly where the information they were searching for, you were searching for, was hidden. 

You had been close at one point, you and the King of Hell. Late night drinking sessions, Game of Thrones marathons. If something went south on a solo hunt he was your call, even before Castiel. This friendship of sorts had been going steadily in secret for almost a year when suddenly he just stopped showing up. No call, no note, just silence. Oh, he’d turn up for Sam or Dean but it was clear that where you were concerned it was purely business, nothing more. At first, you were confused, wondering if you had done or said something, and then you felt a burning rage and disappointment and then… then you just missed him.

He’d watched the door slowly open and had steeled himself for another Dean Winchester special but his heart faltered when he saw you enter and close the heavy door behind you. He wondered if you would be as brutal as he’d seen you hunt but really, he knew that even a small amount of pain at your hands would do him more damage than both Winchesters and their pet angel combined could cause him at their worst. He felt he deserved your hate, your pain, so he was unprepared to see you cross the room and pour him a drink. The straw had been a nice touch and he had almost forgotten himself and smiled. His eyes lingered on your lips and he remembered exactly why he had abandoned you. He decided to break the silence, to get this show on the road with his usual aplomb but he heard a hint of desperation in his tone and that vexed him. He was a demon. Not just any demon but the bloody King of Hell dammit. He couldn’t get all warm and fuzzy about some human. You offered him the straw and he could see the hint of amusement dancing in your eyes at his response. He felt an ache in his chest as he recalled the pride that had filled him every time he had been responsible for your smile, your laugh. He heard the lie escape his mouth and knew that wouldn’t be the last time he would lie to you and that caused his heart to ache in a way he was completely unprepared for.

It had been his mother, of all people, who had brought his happy ignorance crashing around him. “You’ve crossed a line with that one Fergus. I have held my counsel while you palled around with those hunters but you are breaking every single rule when it comes to that girl. You really think she would spend her time with you willingly without anything in return?” She stormed into the throne room obviously in a rage. Crowley glared at his mother and was about to throw a witty retort her way but he was cut off by her continued rant. “For months now you’ve been mooning over her. I thought it was a phase but this… you got too far to protect her. You wouldn’t go this far to protect me.” She spat accusatory.

“That’s because I don’t love you, you harridan.” He shot at her before realising what he had said. His eyes widened and he looked at her as if checking he had actually said it out loud. Her expression just confirmed it. He opened his mouth to defend himself but then realised he didn’t want to. He did love you. He loved the way you made him feel, when he was with you he wasn’t the King of Hell, he was just him and that was something he hadn’t been in a long time. Surely that was worth going to the ends of the earth for.

“She makes you weak and you put her in danger. Anyone who knows about this can and will target her. If you really do care for her you’ll stay away instead of putting a target on her.” Crowley raised an eyebrow with a look of mild surprise. “Oh don’t look at me like that, what’s the point of being the mother of the ex-King of Hell?” she flounced out leaving him considering the grain of truth in her words.

And so now he sat here, chained in the dungeon, watching you sipping whiskey and even though the situation was not exactly how he envisioned spending time with you he couldn’t help the corners of his mouth twitching up into the hint of a smile. A smile which was hiding all the words that wanted to come spilling from his mouth. Words of tenderness and declarations of his devotion that took all his self-control to contain. He had been so sure he was doing the right thing walking away. The few times he had seen you recently had been brief and he had focused on Moose and Squirrel but now… here… alone with you in the dim light his head was a mess. He frowned. This was unlike him, this split personality had him so confused and the one person he wanted to talk about it with, the only person he truly trusted, was the one responsible. You were the one who knew he really was, all of it, and you were still comfortable in his presence. 

You watched him curiously. It looked almost as if he were having an internal conversation, an argument perhaps, each micro expression flickering across his face drawing you closer. His eyes shot up to yours with a hint of desperation that shocked you, made you take a step back as your brow furrowed. “I know you, Crowley. We can do this little dance all night if you like but… just talk to me, honey.” Your voice was soft and as the pet name slipped out his face softened. The lines on his face telling a different story now. Still one of where he had been, where he had come from, the struggle of getting where he now was but there was something more. Almost a realisation. You were right, you did know him and keeping away from you made him far weaker than being with you. You were his weakness but you were also his strength. 

“If I tell you where the scroll is… will you join me for dinner?” There was a hint on nerves in his usually steady voice and challenge in his eyes.

“Is this a test?” You frowned. “You think you need to make a deal to take me for food? Crowley, what’s going on?”

“Is it a deal?” He raised an eyebrow, his expression once again unreadable. Walking over to him with purpose you placed your hands on his shoulders, leaned down, and placed a soft and tender kiss to his lips. Pulling away you saw surprise on his face

“Consider it a deal.” You smirked. Looking at each other, you both knew there had been no need for a bargaining chip. Despite him being a demon and like, a billion times older than you and oh yeah, the KING OF HELL, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling he was made for you.


End file.
